Sectionally, Not Sexually
by fleursdemoncoeur
Summary: France jokingly asks Italy a rather perverted question. Italy, mishearing him, gives an answer that shocks the world. Pokes fun at Itacest. Implied Gerita and Spamano. Rated T for Italy's unintentional sexual innuendos.


Sectionally, not Sexually

The world meeting was going as it usually did. Nations were bickering and fighting amongst one another. Insults and paper airplanes were being thrown across the room. Things were said that could never be taken back. The nations that weren't participating in all of this routine tomfoolery were off doing their own things. Greece was playing with his cats. Prussia was updating his blog. Spain was poking a fuming Romano.

Germany sighed. Italy had been clinging to his arm for the past half hour, begging him to promise to get him pasta on the way home. _Oh God, _he thought. _How much longer will this torture last? This can't possibly get any worse._

Unfortunately for Germany, he thought too soon.

France, who had been deprived of his amorous (and perverted) mischief for far too long, chose that moment to strike. "Hey Italy!"

Italy turned from his whining to look at France. "Ve? Yes, France?"

"I have a question for you I think all of us in this room have been dying to know for centuries." At this statement, several of the nations lazily turned their focus to France. The noise level hadn't really changed all that much, however.

Italy brightened. "Oh, ask me! Ask me! Ask me! I never get to answer people's questions!"

France pretended to look embarrassed, which should have raised a few flags. "I don't know Italy… This is really sort of a private matter…"

"Ve, France! You know I don't care at all about privacy!"

_Most honest thing I've heard all day, _thought Germany.

France continued to act conflicted. "Well, if you're sure you won't be embarrassed…"

Italy was practically jumping up and down in his seat. "Ask me! Ask me! Ask me!"

"Alright, if you insist," sighed France rather dramatically. "When are you going to admit to the rest of the world that you and Romano are sexually involved?"

Immediately, all other noise stopped. Someone dropped a pencil, and the noise could be heard echoing across the room.

Romano stood up. His face was the most furious red anyone had ever seen it (which was saying something, as Germany was in the room), and the look on his face could have sent the mafia fleeing in terror. "_What,_" he whispered in the most frighteningly quiet voice he had ever used, "_Did you just say?_"

"I said-"

"Ve, you're so silly sometimes France! Of course Fratello and I are like that! Hee hee! What a silly question to ask!"

A collective gasp of shock and horror filled the room. Several nations fell off of their chairs, too busy gaping at Italy to notice that they had ended up on the floor. Romano looked about ready to rip some heads open (starting with his brother's). Even France looked stunned.

"Wait, what? I was just joking-"

"Yeah, Fratello and I have always been like that! I'm the top and he's the bottom!"

Gasps and cries of horror and disgust even louder than before reverberated around the table. Switzerland actually plugged Lichtenstein's innocent ears before she could be corrupted any further. Germany was looking at Italy as if he had never seen him before, while Spain regarded Romano with an almost sort of sad jealousy.

"WHAT THE FLYING FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, VENEZIANO?!" Romano screeched at the top of his lungs.

Italy looked a bit hurt. "Ve, why are you being so mean to me, Romano? Is it because you're the bottom? You've never cared before!"

"WHAT!? WHAT!? _WHAT?!_"

"Being on the bottom is nothing to be ashamed of! I think Rome is beautiful!"

At this point Romano was so furious, he actually started foaming at the mouth. A bit of it dribbled onto the table, and he could only make little spluttering noises.

The rest of the nations began talking frantically amongst themselves.

"Oh my god, like, this is, like, so totally _scandalous_!" wailed Poland.

"I can't wait to sneak into their house and take pictures!" squealed Hungary.

"WAIT!"

The voices stopped. Everyone turned to see Germany standing up and looking at Italy. "Italy, I really don't think you know what you're saying…"

"Ve, Germany! You're my lover! You should already know this stuff!"

"LOVE TRIANGLE!" screamed Prussia.

"Bruder! Shut up for a second!" Germany yelled, although he as well had turned rather red. He turned back to Italy. "Think long and hard about what you just said, Italy. I sincerely doubt you meant it."

"Germany! I think I know my own brother well enough to know that, yes, we are sectionally involved!"

The room stared at Italy for a moment before…

"…Wait, what?" Germany asked, looking confused. "Did you say _sectionally_?"

"Of course I did!" Italy cried, beginning to look annoyed. "France asked if Romano and I were sectionally involved, and I said yes because it's true! We are divided by sections! I'm the top, because I'm the North, and he's the bottom, because he's the South! I was surprised that he didn't like being on the bottom of Italy because he's never minded before! And I do think that Rome is beautiful!" He stuck out his tongue at Germany. "Meanie! You and I have been dating for years! I think you should've already known this!"

A moment passed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, America began to roar with laughter. "Ahahahahahahaha! Oh my god! Ahahaha! He thought France said _SECTIONALLY_! Oh my god, I'm dying! I'm dying!" He toppled to the floor, clutching his stomach, laughing so hysterically that he began to sound a bit deranged.

One by one, the realization of what had happened began to dawn on the other countries. Within a period of about ten seconds, the room was filled with so much laughter that the sound rather resembled that of a hyena pack during mating season.

Romano, however, was one of the few that wasn't laughing. He buried his head in his arms, muttering about stupid bastard brothers who needed to learn to hear correctly. Spain tried to comfort him, softly giggling, "You know for a second there, I was really jealous! I like Veneziano, but I don't want to share mi tomate!"

Italy, on the other hand, just looked bewildered. He turned to Germany with a hurt expression on his face. "Germany, why are they all acting so funny? They didn't believe me at first, huh? Why didn't you believe me? It seems like not even Romano believed me for a minute!"

Germany sighed. "Why don't I explain it to you when we get your pasta?"

Italy brightened considerably. "Okay! Can we go now?"

Germany looked around the room at all of the hysterical nations and nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, why not? I think we deserve to ditch this meeting."


End file.
